Category Archives: Grieving

Sneak Peek #25

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Excerpt from THRIVE AND SURVIVE, ZERO TO FIVE

How well I recall the morning I got an “F” in mothering. Still in my pajamas, I had gathered my Bible, notebook, pen, and mug of coffee. Tiptoeing past the stairs toward the living room, eager to eat a spiritual breakfast, I glanced up to see our toddler sitting on the top step . . . already! When he saw me come around the corner, his face lit up, and he greeted me in his usual cheery fashion. “Mama!”

In a split second my face fell, going from neutral to angry, exactly as our eyes met. Thinking only of myself, I let out a low moan. This child had robbed me of something valuable. My treasure had been blown out of the room by the cold wind of an interruption I was having trouble accepting. And there the two of us froze, a chasm of disconnect between us.

“Why are you out of bed so early?” I said with irritation, knowing this was a question no toddler could answer. Still caught up with my own agenda, it took a minute for my displeasure to calm. I turned toward the kitchen to put away my Bible, notebook, and pen, while my little guy bounced down the steps on his bottom, eager to put his arms around me.

Thankfully God convicted me quickly, and we made up in a hurry. I tried to backpedal my poor performance, but I felt bad then and still do today, more than forty years later. But motherhood doesn’t come with do-overs. I squandered the chance to plant a good seed and planted a weed instead.

SIDEBAR: WEED WISDOM

  • Weeds are a fact of life.
  • Pull weeds while they’re still small.
  • Weeds are stronger than tender plants.
  • Don’t mistake weeds for good plants.
  • Unpulled weeds will destroy a garden.

In Memory Of….

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February 2019 is in the books now, along with Valentine’s Day. We widows don’t look forward to February 14th like we used to when our men were with us, but no widow ever forgets how things used to be.

Even though Nate was a big gift-giver, I don’t miss the gifts nearly as much as the giver… especially on February 14th.

This Valentine’s Day, however, included a lovely bright spot. I received a unique gift that was linked back to my favorite giver.

 

Linda is both an old and a new friend. We met 50 years ago in 1969, as newlyweds. What brought us together was our teaching assignments at the same southern Illinois grammar school. We carpooled that year and forged a happy friendship in the process.

After two years, though, she and I moved apart, and our lives filled with children, homes, and separate schedules. In a natural way, our friendship dimmed. But in 2017, we reconnected through my blog — and our friendship was reborn. It’s been rewarding getting to know each other all over again.

And that’s where Valentine’s Day comes in.

Collecting the mail one day, I wondered what a padded envelope from Linda might contain. Inside was a pretty Valentine card and a heartfelt note that had Nate’s name in it. She wrote, “I saw the thing that is in this package and thought instantly of you and Nate.”

I couldn’t imagine what it was but didn’t waste time guessing. Unrolling the red tissue, the first thing I saw was the back side of her gift. She’d written an inscription on the crème-colored stone, and these four words jumped out at me:

“In memory of Nate.”

 

It’s been years since anyone used those words in my hearing, and they touched me deeply, so much so that I broke into tears. No one remembers a man like his wife does, but knowing someone else was remembering him, too, surrounded me with comfort.

When I turned over Linda’s gift, I found a lacy red heart and the words, “I love our story.”

My sentiments exactly.

 

One widow friend told me recently the thing she most fears is that people will forget about her husband. With the passing of time, fewer friends mention him, and his face isn’t in any of their photos. No fresh stories surface about him, nor are there any memories that haven’t already been shared.

And maybe that’s why Linda’s gift meant so much to me. She suggested packing it away with my Valentine decorations, but I prefer keeping it next to Nate’s picture on my dresser, where I can see it every day.

“God loves a person who gives cheerfully.” (2 Corinthians 9:7)

Nine Years Ago Today

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Today, September 22, is the 9th anniversary of the day Nate and I learned of his fatal cancer. He’d been bothered by severe back pain for 7 months and was scheduled for surgery when pre-op tests told a different story.

After that appointment at a Chicago hospital, we pointed our mini-van toward the peace and quiet of our Michigan home. As I drove, Nate used the time to call each of his 7 children to tell them personally what we’d just learned. As emotionally draining as that job was, he wanted each of them to hear it directly from him.

Normal life came to a screeching halt that day as we tried to absorb the shock. No one knew what was going to happen, but all agreed it couldn’t possibly be anything good.

*          *              *              *              *             *              *              *             *              *

Recently I came across a paper with Nate’s handwriting on it, something I don’t often see these days. It was the first page in a blank book, dated 9/22/09. He had titled it, “Journal of Willard Nyman.” *

In less than 20 words his first entry summarized the dreadful truth:

Sept. 22, 2009The Dr told me I have [metastasizing] pancreatic cancer today. Thought it was back problem all the time.

In those words I could hear his grave disappointment but also a measure of acceptance. Though Nate had hoped to write down his thoughts as he journeyed through cancer, he never had the chance. The daily pace moved too fast for that. This first entry was his last.

Because September 22 has come around 9 times now, I find myself thinking back without tears. Though I miss Nate every hour of every day, God’s healing of my heart has taken away the pain of remembering.

Now when I go back to that time, I think of the many ways God was on the move. On September 22, when we’d all agreed nothing good could possibly happen after the diagnosis, we had been wrong.

M and N, Aug. 09God pulled our attention toward him on every one of those 42 days by causing unusual things to happen in and around us. He proved how very close he was and sustained us by sprinkling blessings over each day’s harsh circumstances. And God is willing to partner like that with every person through grievous situations. He sustains us, rescues us, and is so close he can even carry us.

The Lord said, “I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” (Isaiah 46:4b)

* Nate’s real name: Willard Nathan Nyman (Photo taken 8/22/09)